Wandering around the City of Splendor, a young half-elf’s face showed expressions of awe and disbelief. Being the offspring of the strange union of a human father and his first wife, which was an elf, Lanla had never seen sights of such greatness. Her sights had been limited to the expanses of the family farming lands to the south of Waterdeep.

When she was younger, Lanla had snuck out at night and crafted a crude instrument of a subtle willow branch and a few lengths of pig gut. An elderly neighbor had told her that the instrument was called a yarting, which was a kind of musical instrument. The kind neighbor taught Lanla how to create musical note from the crude creation. She kept her new found talent from her parents, they had been wishing that she would one day take over the farm. But
every night she sneaked out to the back of the barn, and into the small alcove she had carved into the dense aspen trees. Strumming her yarting under the clear night skies, under the shining stars, her new songs put her mind at peace and renewed her spirits.

Then tragedy struck. A band of ravishing orcs and ogres laid waste to the farmlands. They burned everything they came in contact with. Terrified Lanla ran to her place of escape. Laying on the ground with the trees burning around her, she clutched dearly to her one source of peace, her yarting. When the battle cries and shrieks of the dying subsided, Lanla finally looked around her alcove. Strangely none of the trees within the range of her songs showed no sign of burns. Mystified she wandered from her sanctuary, to see the waste that the attackers had left. A muffled groan caught her attention and she raced to the side of her mother. As she laid down next to her mother, her mother uttered her last words, “Embrace your songs” and then with a slight rattle her mother’s breathing stopped. An agonized movement drew her eye away from her mother. Her father was dragging himself by his arms toward his daughter and the remains of his wife. Tear filled his eyes as he realized what he looked upon. Filled with emotion, Lanla began to strum her yarting and sing with all her might. Her father looked up in amazement and pride as he held up his arm and watched his wounds fade.

Slowly walking trough the ruins that had been the family farm, Lanla and her father’s eye welled with tears as they saw they had nothing left. A shrill cry caught their attention and both ran headlong toward the source of the cry. They found an infant under the bodies of what they decided where the infants parents. Lanla held the baby in her arms and her father wrapped his
arms around them both. Lanla’s father had taken an apprenticeship under Grom, the barrel
master in Waterdeep. Slowly Lanla’s skill with her yarting improved, she began to try other instruments, now that she was able to see that there were others besides her lowly yarting. She began to play in the corner of Selune’s Smile when she could. Some days patrons would toss coins and praise her, others they would throw leftover food at her and ask her to leave. And everyday after her time at the Smile, she would go home to their cramped home an take care of the young one that her and her father had named Thanti.

Time progressed and Thanti left on his own to study in the ways of the magi. Father was still an apprentice at the barrel maker, but at least it kept food on the table. Lanla decided to explore the entire city of Waterdeep. She grasped her flute and began to play as he walked from street to street, occasionally a group of neighborhood children would begin to follow her,
skipping and dancing to the peppy beat she played on her flute. It was at the fountain in the middle of Waterdeep that Lanla met a healer named Taserea. Taserea was a human and some of her stories struck fear into Lanla. One day when Lanla was checking into the inn, for a nights rest, she ran into a warrior named Vari.

Vari spoke of her adventures and her close knit group of friends. I sat and listened as Vari spun tale after tale of her adventures. Soon some of Vari’s friends arrived and began adding the “oops’ into the stories that Vari was telling Vari blushed and admitted that some of the oops were true, but all her friends laughed and clapped her on the back. A soft spoken magi asked if I would like to join the circle of friends and after much thought I decided that I would like to have them as friends. I found out later that they called themselves the Northern Star.

Back to home page